


broken

by aalphard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Blood, Depressed Sugawara Koushi, Depression mentions, Gen, HUGE trigger warning!, Please be safe, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, does this classify as gore?, injuries, there are some explicit depictions of self-harm so pLEASE don't read if it triggers you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalphard/pseuds/aalphard
Summary: Everyone has a specific moment in life when something happens and that thing alone is able to rip your entire being into small pieces and you have to stop for a while to think about what you’re going to do. For a long time after that, you have to gather your pieces and it takes such a long time, such a tremendous effort, not even to fit them back together but only to assemble them in a different, a new way, something that’s not necessarily better than what it was before, but something you can live with until you’re able to look at them properly once again and know for certain which should go where. And even then, sometimes you realize you lost something while trying to gather the pieces of what you once were – and that’s something you’ll never get back.Sugawara Koushi wasn’t sure at what specific point in his lifetime that moment was.or sugawara koushi is tired of feeling this numb.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi & Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	broken

**Author's Note:**

> hey! so, first of all, i'd like to point out once again that this story deals with delicate themes such as depression and suicidal thoughts and suicidal attempts as **i** experienced them, so it might not be similar to any other experiences out there. this is my take on it and mine alone, but if someone feels like it might be close to what they feel, i'm always open if you want to vent! 
> 
> so **HUGE TRIGGER WARNING** please don't read it if it makes you uncomfortable! this was an experimental kind of thing and i admit i kind of used it to vent, so i apologize if it's not that good. without further ado, i hope you enjoy it! happy reading, i guess?

Everyone has a specific moment in life when something happens and that thing alone is able to rip your entire being into small pieces and you have to stop for a while to think about what you’re going to do. For a long time after that, you have to gather your pieces and it takes such a long time, such a tremendous effort, not even to fit them back together but only to assemble them in a different, a new way, something that’s not necessarily better than what it was before, but something you can live with until you’re able to look at them properly once again and know for certain which should go where. And even then, sometimes you realize you lost something while trying to gather the pieces of what you once were – and that’s something you’ll never get back.

Sugawara Koushi wasn’t sure at what specific point in his lifetime that moment was. He wasn’t sure he could pinpoint exactly _where_ things had gotten off track or where he found himself dreading the moment he’d wake up in the morning. It’s not like he was _lonely_ , per se, because he had friends. He had his team and they were the best friends he could have asked for. But this wasn’t about that – and it wasn’t about anything else other than himself and something he didn’t know what it was.

What he did know, though, is that one day he woke up and he felt numb. He didn’t know what was going on and he decided he shouldn’t say anything because that would probably make people worry about him. He thought it would go away after a few days – they had just lost a very important match, after all. He thought it was just his sadness taking other forms. He didn’t know by then just how _different_ that numbness was from regular sadness or how much _worse_ he’d be feeling. He thought everyone felt like that sometimes. He thought it would get better in a few days.

Only it didn’t.

It came in waves, that numbness. Sometimes he wanted to cry, but more often than not, he found himself staring up to his ceiling in the mornings, not really _feeling_ anything and thinking it’d be better if he skipped school. More often than not, he started to feel something pushing him down, a new weight added to his shoulders – even if there was nothing there. His head was a mess, really, and nothing he thought of doing ended up going his way. Everything felt wrong and more often than not, really, his body didn’t have the strength to carry him from his bed to the kitchen. He was _so tired_ all the time and he didn’t even know why when most of his time had been spent on his bed.

He started avoiding his friends, _especially_ Daichi, and had been ditching practice whenever he _actually_ managed to gather enough strength to get out of bed and walk to school. Sometimes it felt like he could breathe a tiny bit better when he was around people and being at school helped. Sometimes, it didn’t. He could see them looking at him weird and whispering whenever he passed them in the hallways – and that _did not help at all_. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to make small talk, he just wanted to mind his own business and it was already such a hard task, why did people wanted to make it even worse? Because of that, weekends had become his favorite days of the week because that meant he had the whole house to himself, his parents always away in business trips, and he didn’t have to think about anything other than sleeping through the whole day.

He didn’t remember the last time he had showered or eaten anything other than rice crackers because those were _easy_ and he could gulp them down with water that tasted like plastic from the bottle he left by his bedside table. How long had it been already since he last left the house? How long had it been already since he _saw_ anything other than the darkness behind his eyelids or his ceiling? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. He wasn’t really feeling anything anymore. It didn’t matter, not really.

But at some point, being in his own skin started to feel uncomfortable. It felt itchy and it _burned_ and it was so _weird_ to be feeling something after weeks of numbness and _nothing_ that Koushi cried. He cried for the first time ever since they lost that match and it _hurt_ – his throat was dry and his lips were chapped and every slight movement he made was guaranteed to make everything worse. So he was just there, wrapped up in his blankets, eyes locked on the ceiling as tears flooded his eyes and overflowed through his cheeks. They felt warm against his skin and the feeling was nice after so long feeling _cold_ all the time.

Things were fine for a while. He managed to get out of bed one day and even showered after so many weeks without it – his hair was a mess and there were knots all over. He even went to school and managed to talk with a few people without getting overwhelmed. It felt nice he was normal again. He even went to practice, although he didn’t do much other than watch. It didn’t feel like he belonged there anymore and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that really hurt. It didn’t feel like he was needed there anymore. They had moved on from him – and couldn’t bring himself to get mad at them. They were right. Suga would have done the same. Or that’s what he tried to convince himself of. He wasn’t worth their time, after all.

“Are you okay?” Daichi had asked him when they were closing the gym.

He might have wanted to tell him _no, there’s this thing on my shoulders that gets really annoying some days and sometimes it makes me weak to the point in which i spend so many days tucked into my blankets and i can’t eat anything nor drink nor take a shower because it demands so much i think i’m losing my mind_ , but he doesn’t. He grins and nods lightly, trying so hard to make it look like he’s telling the truth.

“You didn’t show up for weeks and we couldn’t reach out to you,” he had said, putting one of his hands on Suga’s shoulder. _Yeah,_ Suga wants to say, _I turned my phone off before it got real bad so I wouldn’t bother you with any of this. There’s nothing worth talking about. I’m not really worth your time now._ “You know if there’s ever anything you need, we’re here, right?”

_Yeah_ , he wants to say. _But there’s nothing you can do._

It was a few days after that Koushi tried to feel something, anything, by hitting his head against his bedroom wall. He felt it thumping down on his shoulders once again while he was walking home from school – it was a nice week. Nothing happened to make it show up again, but it did anyway, not really caring if it was welcomed or not. Not that it would matter, either way. The numbness crept up on him, engulfing him down in a hazy mist and he couldn’t really see or hear anything. He was quite used to that now, to the point in which it didn’t make him panic anymore. It had become routine.

But truth is, it had never been that strong, pushing him down and down and even further down, to the point in which _breathing_ was hard and he couldn’t see anything no matter how many times he tried to blink the fog away. He got up, still dizzy, and ran up to his wall. His face hit it first and he felt something hot and thick streaming down his face – licking his lips, he tasted iron. So he _had_ hurt himself. Why wasn’t he feeling any pain? Why was he still seeing everything blurry? He tried again and again and again until he was out of breath. He was sure he’d have bruised the next day but he couldn’t bring himself to care because he just wanted to _feel_ something, anything really.

One day his father called. He asked why he wasn’t going to school and Koushi couldn’t come up with an excuse. He told him he felt weak and he couldn’t get out of bed. His father told him he was being dramatic – it couldn’t be that bad, he had gone through worse when he was at school. Koushi hummed and told his father he’d try his best to do everything he was supposed to. His mother only sent him a text asking if he needed anything. He didn’t answer.

Texts were piling up on his phone. Daichi sent him at least thirty texts every day. He asked him if he was okay, if he needed him to come over for anything, if he was eating properly. He usually sent pictures of practice and Koushi felt like that wasn’t really necessary. Kageyama used to send him a few texts asking if he was alright, but eventually he stopped. Koushi couldn’t blame him. Asahi sent him lots of easy recipes and cute emojis – and sometimes he asked if Koushi wanted him to bring something over for him to eat. He always said _no, i’m good._ Ennoshita sometimes tried calling him, but he’d never pick up. Hinata, Nishinoya and Tanaka made sure to send him funny pictures at least three times a day and they did make him smile a bit. It didn’t make the weight on his shoulders any less unbearable, though.

The next time his vision got blurry and he could no longer feel anything, Koushi grabbed his scissors from the desk in the corner of his room and told himself the physical pain would make the fog go away. He told himself that over and over, trying to muffle the thumping of his heart with his thoughts. _I just need to feel something_ , he told himself, _and that’s the only reason I’m doing this. The numbness is going to make me insane. I need to_ feel _something, anything._

He didn’t cry as he sliced his skin, as the fog slowly went away and he looked down at his thighs, covered in crimson droplets, slowly making their way down his leg. It stung. It didn’t _hurt_ , per se, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. But all he could think of is that _now i know what to do to make this numbness go away_. He just had to be careful or people would notice, would comment on it. He couldn’t have that – not when he promised he’d do his best. If that was what it took for him to be able to get up in the morning, he would do it.

Only it didn’t exactly _help_.

Koushi felt things now. It wasn’t numbness all around, but moving felt somewhat uncomfortable and reminded him that he was, in fact, _alive_ , and he didn’t think he wanted it anymore. He ditched practice more often than not and tried looking for spots at school people didn’t really go to – he couldn’t stand to look Daichi or Asahi in the face. He felt wrong. As if his _existence_ was a problem. _I should try going for the wrists next_ , he thought. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. His parents were never home and the team had moved forward without him. Everyone moved forward while he was still there, stuck to the ground and seemingly being engulfed by it. _It’s not like anyone would care_.

One day, Koushi found himself in front of his mirror, only in his underwear. He could see the scars on his thighs, some still bloody and he could only think it wasn’t something people would want to see. He didn’t think _revolutionary_ or anything other than plain _sad_. It’s true that people say that sadness holds a poetic meaning behind it. There are many different circumstances as to why someone might be feeling sad or hopeless and that’s what makes us human. But he wasn’t _sad_ , not exactly. Nor was he _hopeless_. He was just numb – and nothing he did seemed to make it any better. Unless he ripped his skin open and let his blood pour out of him like it hurt keeping it inside. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like he was meant to do that all along. _What if I do it deeper? What if I let more of it get out? Will I pass out? It would be better if I did, right? Then no one would have to deal with me._

His parents had called him so many times in the short span of a week Koushi started to think they actually cared. But maybe they didn’t. Or maybe they were just busy. Either way, he didn’t really care. Slowly, more scars were added to the ones on his thighs, some of them reaching up to his stomach. He had lost weight, that was for sure. His hipbones were more noticeable and now he could even see his ribs poking out – as if they were trying to run away from him. Koushi caught himself wondering if it would hurt if he cut right there. _It’ll make me feel something_ , is what he told himself.

Showers were the worst. When he managed to get himself out of bed, Koushi sometimes tried to get in the shower and clean his cuts – but it _hurt_. It hurt and he didn’t want to feel that because it made him dizzy and it reminded him of the numbness he had grown so used to in the last few months. He had tried his mother’s sleeping pills, sneaking them out of the bathroom’s cabinet. He wondered just how many pills would take him out, pondering for a while before taking a handful of them and chugging them with tap water. He hoped it would work and he’d finally be free of this whole thing.

Except it didn’t.

He _had_ been knocked out for a few hours. But around 3AM his body woke him up in the worst way possible – his throat was closing in on itself and it was _so hard_ to breathe. He felt dizzy and clammy and sweaty and it was _so uncomfortable_. He managed to get himself out of bed and make his way towards the bathroom, grabbing the toilet before everything he had consumed in the last eight hours got expelled through his mouth and even his nose. He felt tears streaming down his face while bile burned his throat and nose. Koushi felt like he might as well lose consciousness right then, from how hard it was to breathe and how foggy his vision had become.

He tried a few more times after that – taking so many different pills he found around the house, mixing them together when he didn’t even know what they were for. _I just need it to end_ , is what he thought. _I don’t care what they do to me_. But it never worked.

It hurt.

Being alive hurt.

Being numb hurt.

Being unable to do anything about it hurt.

He wasn’t even able to cry anymore – he thought it might help the tightness in his chest, might help with the knot that refused to go down his throat, but it didn’t. It didn’t because he couldn’t cry, because there were no tears left because he was _numb_ and nothing worked. He wasn’t even capable of ending himself. _How pathetic is this_ , he thought. He couldn’t tell anyone, he couldn’t _trust_ anyone. He wasn’t answering his texts – Daichi had already sent him over two hundred texts in a week. He didn’t even _read_ them.

_What was the point?_

Everything hurt and he wanted it to end. He wanted to go back, to get a chance to do it all over again. Maybe he could find out where he went wrong? Maybe he could find out where was it that he lost that one thing that was keeping him together?

_It hurts_.

_I don’t really feel anything._

_Is this what being human is like? Am I human? Or am I something else?_

_What’s wrong with me?_

Koushi didn’t know where his missing pieces were. He didn’t know how to find them or how to fit them all together once again if he were ever to find out where they were – or even if he’d be able to. Koushi was unwhole. He used to think everything that was busted could be fixed, but maybe that wasn’t true. Because right then, sat in the middle of his room, he held up a razor and felt a sob escaping his throat. He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t scared. Truth is, he wasn’t really feeling anything.

He managed to grab his phone and sent Daichi a text. _Thanks for putting up with me_ , it said, _but I think I’ve had enough_. He didn’t feel anything but the sharp sting when he finally pressed the razor to the light skin of his wrist, opening up like he was always meant to do that one day. It didn’t take long for his phone to light up and make a sound – Daichi had seen his text already. He worked up on his other wrist, suddenly feeling cold. It was nice, _feeling_ something.

Blood poured out of his body through his cuts and tears streamed down his face. He was _cold_ , so, _so cold_. He had started to feel dizzy right when his phone started ringing. Koushi squinted, trying to see who was calling him through his tears. The last thing he saw before the world turned dark, before everything disappeared, was Daichi’s smiling face on his phone. _What a nice thing to see before you die._

And after that, Sugawara Koushi was no more. _At least I got a chance to see that smile again._

**Author's Note:**

> as i said, it's not really that great but i think i managed to convey what i'm used to feeling when it gets really bad and hopefully someone out there won't feel as if they're the weird one for having these feelings as well. if, by any chance, anyone feels like they need someone to talk to, my @ is on my profile! thanks for reading!
> 
> oh yeah - i wrote this while listening to [ this song](https://open.spotify.com/track/2AHKsVXN6BjBO8SEVX6cBC?si=4LbfQmMFRpq1uVEQi5ZloA) on loop, so if anyone wants to check that out, it'd be great! it's a great song!
> 
> (also please: i am in no way saying everyone who's depressed is suicidal or everyone who has suicidal thoughts HAS to be depressed, much on the contrary, everyone is their own person and as i said earlier i was only trying to put my feelings into words and i ended up with this, so it's basically what my experience with mental illness is like)


End file.
